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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832891">The Problem with Secrets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleladchronicles/pseuds/littleladchronicles'>littleladchronicles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>EEF [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU Littles are Known, Age Play Caregiver Amy Nelson, Age Play Little Ethan Nestor, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Littles are known, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, CG! Mark, Caregiver Amy Nelson, Caregiver Mark Fischbach, Daddy Mark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Hurt Ethan Nestor, Hurt/Comfort, Little Ethan, Littles Are Known, Littleverse, Memento mori, Non-Sexual Age Play, Platonic Relationships, Protective Mark Fischbach, Sad Ethan Nestor, Unus Annus, caretaker Mark Fischbach, cgre, mommy amy, nsap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:59:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleladchronicles/pseuds/littleladchronicles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, Mark asked Ethan what his classification was, and Ethan, embarrassed and nervous and only newly-classified, told him he was neutral.</p>
<p>It wasn’t like it could one day bite him in the ass…Except that when he lied and told Mark he was neutral, he never really counted on the little detail that he’d one day work with Mark on a year-long project that required a lot of time together.</p>
<p>(He was so stupid.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Fischbach &amp; Amy Nelson &amp; Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>EEF [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>429</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Features non-sexual age regression/ nsap, as stated in the title and the summary.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once upon a time, Mark asked Ethan what his classification was, and Ethan, embarrassed and nervous and only newly-classified, told him he was neutral.</p><p>Neither little nor big. A perfect middle ground that was exempt from most judgments or requirements. After all, littles needed<em> caretakers </em>so becoming a solo YouTuber that focused on<em> gaming </em>would be questioned. <em> Are you sure these games are appropriate for your age? </em> </p><p>And if he lied and said he was a caregiver, then there would be the question of when he’d get a little of his own and it was- </p><p>It was too much.</p><p>So he lied through his teeth and said Neutral like it was his god-given right to lie to Mark’s face. </p><p>It wasn’t like it could one day bite him in the ass…</p><p>Except that when he lied and told Mark he was neutral, he never really counted on the little detail that he’d one day work with Mark on a year-long project that required<em> a lot </em>of time together. Sure, they’d worked together and spent time together before, but this was<em> different </em>in so many ways.</p><p>Filming Unus Annus meant that he spent most of his time in Mark’s house, with Mark and Amy beside him as they discussed video ideas, shot their videos, and then talked over what they wanted to keep in and whether they needed to reshoot any of the clips.</p><p>Some days he felt like he spent more time with Mark and Amy than he spent in his own home.</p><p>
  <strike> He was so<em> stupid</em>.<br/></strike>
</p><p>He didn’t want to buckle down on his lie, though, not this long after telling it. Not now that Mark saw him as an equal on their channel. </p><p>It made for a good dynamic, after all. The fans seemed to love it, making meme after meme about ‘the exasperated caregiver looking like he’s one second away from throwing his biological impulses down the drain and straight-up murdering Ethan’ and ‘the hyperactive Neutral that could drive a saint to sin with his antics and inability to speak like a human’. </p><p>It was funny.</p><p>It was well-liked by a lot of fans, though there would always be people who either thought Ethan was too loud and annoying or thought Mark was too much of an ass that turned everything into a competition. There was no way of pleasing everyone though, so Ethan made do.</p><p>But <em> God</em>, it was tiring; because of how often he was with Mark, he needed to always be sure to carry his patches on him so that he didn’t slip in front of them. </p><p>It should have been basic enough to always remember to replace his patches to keep himself in a mature headspace, but between shooting videos for his channel and Unus Annus, needing to do prep for the videos, and managing everything else, it was… a lot.</p><p>There were a few times he almost slipped, of course. The first fitness test they did almost did him in, the aftermath of Mark’s anger visible on the wall. </p><p>[His breaths stuttered in his chest for a moment and the silence went on for far too long, the tension of the room crawling deep into his bones and making his ears ring- <strike> He forced himself to breathe, knowing that stress would cause his patches to stop working, and neither of them needed that </strike> <strike>.</strike>]</p><p>Another time he almost slipped up was the stupid paintball video, seeing Mark- tall, muscular Mark who could easily overpower him, anger clear on his face, walking towards him with intent. </p><p><em>[I did bad, </em>Ethan had thought, his insides quivering even as he moved away and awkwardly laughed <strike>because he knew his charade would be over if the fans saw how scared he actually was, all wet-eyed and shaking.</strike> But Mark, ever the <b><em>caregiver</em></b> relented, making him agree to the deal instead.</p><p>For content.]</p><p>There were more, of course. More little almost-slip-ups that the audience laughed about, thinking it was always a bit. Or thinking it was just his personality and not that he’s… little. </p><p>A few hypothesized, some even went so far as to micro-analyze his behavior on long Tumblr posts he sometimes read through at late hours of the night, but for the most part, his proclamation of being a Neutral in a casual gaming video he posted sometime in the beginning of his career usually quieted all of the people saying otherwise. </p><hr/><p>Mark stretched against the sofa, looking through his phone as Amy looked through the footage of the day’s filming. “Any wonky shots?” he asked. </p><p>“Uhhh, not really. Might need to cut a portion out, but the audio checks out and most of what happens is in the frame.” </p><p>“Cool,” Mark said simply, scratching at his beard idly. </p><p>Ethan shifted on the other end of the couch as he looked at Amy. “So we’re done with filming for today, right?” he asked, picking at the stray pieces of string on his red sweater before he picked his phone up, twirling it a couple of times. </p><p>Amy nodded in assent. “Yeah, we’ve got a couple more videos in line for the next few days, so we can end it now and film more tomorrow.”</p><p>“Cool, cool.”</p><p>“You should stay for dinner,” Mark said, finally looking up from his phone, clicking it off while he looked the younger man over. Ethan didn’t meet his eyes, holding his phone up to his lips almost like a playing card. </p><p>After a moment, still looking at some spot in the corner of the room, Ethan responded, “I don’t wanna bother you and Amy, I can go.”</p><p>“Aw, buddy, you’re not bothering anyone,” Amy soothed quickly, the caretaker in her rising to the surface. “We love having you around, and plus, it’ll give us a nice chance to discuss more video ideas for tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah, and we’re ordering pizza, so you’ll wanna stay for that.”</p><p>With that, Ethan reluctantly nodded and the room became quiet once again. Amy went to the kitchen, leaving Mark and Ethan alone. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You seem quiet. You good?”</p><p>Ethan looked up at him, still not meeting his eyes but looking in his direction, at least. “‘M fine, Mark. Just... tired, I guess.”</p><p>“Are you sure? You’re not still in pain from the paintball gun, are you? Actually, lemme see what I did to you, shit, I should’ve checked earlier after the video. Sorry, man, here, lemme just-” </p><p>Ethan cringed away from his hand, pushing it away as his shoulders hunched upward, immediately on the defensive. Nervous eyes darted from Mark’s hands to Mark’s face and then back. “‘M <em> fine, </em> Mark. I’m not- I’m not hurt.” </p><p>The words should have been comforting, but they did nothing but trigger something deep in Mark’s instincts, an innate urge to fix whatever was causing the nervous look on Ethan’s face.</p><p>It was a lie. It<em> had </em>to be a lie from the way that Ethan left bite marks in his syllables, the words falling and dripping at an odd pace, Ethan’s eyes still drawn to everywhere that wasn’t Mark’s eyes. </p><p>There was a moment of silence as Mark looked him over, unsure of what he was looking for but damn if he wasn’t going to look for it anyway. It felt like he was watching a magic trick, knowing that there was sleight of hand taking place, but he just couldn't figure out which hand to look at, which hand would do the tricking. It made him uneasy. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here if you need me, man. Always.”</p><p>“Even if you find out I lied to you?” Ethan asked quickly as though he wasn’t expecting to say that, and though his lips pulled up into a nervous half-smile, his eyes were wet and watery when they finally met Mark’s. </p><p><em> Something's wrong, </em> Mark’s mind whispered to him. <em> Something was wrong </em>but he didn’t know how to<em> fix it</em>.</p><p>Mark swallowed, unsure of where this was going but he nodded anyway. “Even then.”</p><p>Ethan raked his eyes over Mark’s face, searching. Mark didn’t know what he should be showing, but he tried to show as much honesty in his eyes, opening his expression up for Ethan to search for whatever he needed to find. </p><p>“Okay,” Ethan said, voice softer, steadier, no longer sounding like the words were flying out of him. </p><p>“Okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>The conversation dropped away at that. Mark wanted to push, but Ethan seemed calmer and he didn’t want to come off as overbearing. He decided to let Ethan open up at his own pace even if he was insanely curious and somewhat concerned at what the lie could be about. It surely wouldn’t have been anything to do with their work because that would have been unprofessional and Ethan valued what he did more than that- so it had to be personal.</p><p>But for the life of him, Mark couldn’t think of what Ethan might’ve lied about that would come up<em> now</em>.</p><hr/><p>“Hey bud, you alright?” Fiona asked, placing a warm hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan blinked, realizing he’d zoned out. Ethan swallowed nervously, feeling uncomfortably close to little at the warm matronly tone that Fiona spoke to him with, which was dangerous. They were done filming but that wasn’t what Ethan worried about. Weird moments could be edited out. </p><p>The problem was that Ethan still hadn’t told Mark or Amy about… about- </p><p>He’d come close a couple of times, but God, every time they met his eyes, he just<em> couldn’t</em>. </p><p>“Here, you have a leaf in your hair. Lemme get that for you, hon.”</p><p>Ethan stayed still, looking up at her with gratefulness clear in his eyes. “T-thank you,” he said softly, almost curling into himself at her bright smile.</p><p>“Hey, it’s no problem, kiddo. You did very good today with the girls.” She turned to look at the chickens, still wandering the area, oblivious to the storm swelling behind Ethan’s eyes. </p><p>Ethan hummed, nodding before he realized what she’d said. “Not a kid,” he said halfheartedly, eyes moving to where Amy and Mark were in the distance, discussing something to themselves. “Don’t need to be taken care of.”</p><p>“No?” she answered easily, “Well, maybe not, but littles, caregivers, and even neutrals need care now and again. So where are you on the spectrum?”</p><p>He didn’t want to answer. By fucking god he shouldn’t have answered. But the lie already weighed down his body like cold and wet clothes and he didn’t<em> want </em>to keep lying anymore. </p><p>Ethan cleared his throat, looking down at his hands. “I… I’m a little,” he said, hating how<em> hard </em>it was to admit something so small. “But nobody knows and it’s so tiring to keep pretending I’m not and- and I can’t-”</p><p>He couldn’t breathe. The words all jammed somewhere in the center of his throat and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, the tears jumping to his eyes as he pressed his palm against his eyes. </p><p>
  <strike> Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that he forgot to replace his patch that day.  </strike>
</p><p>“Oh, hon. I’m sure that’s really rough. It sounds like you’re feeling real conflicted,” Fiona said softly, placing her hand on Ethan’s back again, soothing him with such a small action. “But, hey. You’ve got people who care about you and I’m sure they’d be glad to take care of you if you let them. It’s okay to put that mask away and let yourself be seen.”</p><p>“They’ll hate me for lying.”</p><p>“Do you think they would hate you and turn you away for being too afraid to tell them before?” she asked and he didn’t answer, knowing- <em> knowing </em>that they wouldn’t, not really. Angry, maybe. Disappointed, sure. </p><p>But<em> hate? </em>Ethan couldn’t imagine it, not from Mark and Amy. He didn’t know if he could take it if they did. </p><p>Fiona gave him a knowing smile, though sad at the edges as she looked at him. “I’ll go call ‘em over, yeah? I think you guys are just about set to go home anyway.”</p><p>Ethan didn’t answer, still busy trying to keep his body from overheating, his eyes still pressed against his eyes as tears leaked out from them anyways, fast and unbidden. Little whimpers left his lips so he clamped his mouth closed, his entire body shaking with every sob he tried to silence. </p><p>Beyond him, he could hear the words being whispered and exchanged, too far away for Ethan to really grasp all the disjointed letters and form them into words his frayed mind could understand.</p><p>He drifted for a while and when he next came back into himself, he had a hand on his shoulder again, and large hands pulled at his own, pulling his hands away from where they’d wandered up to grab at his hair in agitation. “Hey,” Mark said with a gently chiding tone, “None of that, bud. Come on, up you get.”</p><p>He was lifted into Mark’s arms, his head placed against his shoulder and- <em> oh</em>, Ethan belatedly realized, he was<em> dropping</em>. </p><p>Ethan sobbed something into Mark’s shoulder, something torn between an apology and a plea, but Mark only swayed him, a hand on Ethan’s neck to keep him secure in his arms. “Yeah, it’s alright. You’re tired, why don’t you cry it all out, yeah? Yeah, it’ll be okay. Everything’s fine.”</p><p>“We’re going to need some supplies,” Amy said, quickly listing out things as Evan wrote them down. Ethan drifted a little bit more, too disoriented and agitated to make out much of the drive home except that he was certainly sitting in someone’s lap in the backseat, tears still falling even as Amy pressed something into his lips.</p><p>
  <strike>A pacifier, he would later realize.</strike>
</p><p>“How’s he doing?” Mark asked, looking in the rearview mirror for a second before he turned back to the road.</p><p>“He’s still upset. Can’t believe the little guy kept this a secret for so long. I can’t even imagine it,” Amy replied, running his fingers through Ethan’s hair, trying to keep him from growing more agitated during the ride. </p><p>Mark hummed, clicking his tongue at the driver in front of him. “Yeah, he definitely used patches or pills to keep from regressing. But damn, I don’t even know how long he’s been using them. That amount of headspace repression isn’t<em> healthy</em>. I don’t think he’s been in headspace at least the entire time Unus Annus has been running, and maybe even longer than that.”</p><p>“It might explain why he’s always excusing himself. He was probably replacing his patches or taking pills half the time.” </p><p>“God, why didn’t he<em> tell </em>us? We could have helped him out, arranged filming to be less stressful, and given him breaks if he needed them. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, I would’ve thought he’d at least give a hint-” Mark said before he stopped suddenly, his fingers drumming against the wheel. “The lie. God, he- he mentioned something about it last month, about whether I’d be there for him if I found out he lied to me. I should’ve known that this was what he was hiding or I should’ve prodded a bit more, asked a few more questions, I just-”</p><p>“Mark,” Amy cut in gently, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t his either. He wasn’t ready to tell us, but now that we know, we can help him.”</p><p>Mark fell silent before he said, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. We'll help him through this."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The light at the tunnel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ethan spends the night with Mark and Amy, and they have a conversation the next morning about what happens next.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first night he spent with Amy and Mark was surprisingly not as complicated as he would have imagined. By the time they got home, Ethan was tired and half-asleep, making it all the easier for Mark to maneuver him into the house. He drifted most of that day, too little to maintain much of his thought processes or speak. </p>
<p>He hadn’t been little in such a long time, after all.</p>
<p>The body pressed against his own was warm and the hands were gentle- and that was enough for the most part. It was more than he’d had in so long.</p>
<p>“You’re alright,” Mark told him repeatedly throughout the day. Every time, Ethan felt the tight and tangled coil of barbed wire in his chest diminish and loosen until it eventually just faded and he could actually relax. </p>
<p>Mark and Amy weren’t bad at being caretakers, though that should have come as no surprise to Ethan. They worked in tandem, somehow, as though they’d done it numerous times before. It was a small wonder how they knew which side of the kitchen to go to, how to work around each other rather than pummel through the resistance. </p>
<p>There was a flow to their actions, as though they were in tune with each other even if they moved wordlessly, a fluidity brought about by time spent together and experience.</p>
<p>Ethan didn’t fuss too much except when his agitation levels rose and his body felt too hot or too tight. Mark didn’t seem to mind, though, rubbing at his face with a cold wet cloth to try and counterbalance it even though Ethan didn’t tell him what was wrong.</p>
<p>He seemed to just know whenever something was wrong, which would have been eerie if Ethan wasn’t so grateful for it. Mark barely put him down the entire first day, carrying him around from room to room, settling Ethan on his lap when necessary. Ethan couldn't think of a single moment that he wasn't pressed against Mark or Amy all through the day.</p>
<p>
  <strike>If he was in a clearer state of mind, he would know that the reason for that was to help him recover from his drop faster.</strike>
</p>
<p>The rest of the night passed easily after being bathed to get the leaves from his hair (<strike>he didn't understand why they were in his hair anyway)</strike> and wash the tear stains from his face. He slept in the master bedroom next to Mark while Amy took the roller bed that was on Ethan’s other side, keeping him between the two of them in case if he woke up in the middle of the night. </p>
<p>Thankfully, he didn’t have problems sleeping that night, curled up against Mark as the worst of his drop ebbed away.</p>
<p>Morning greeted him gently, and when he woke up, his mind was clear and his body felt normal once again. He woke with a bigger state of mind than the day previous, feeling less like he wanted to pull his own hair out. He felt <em>calm</em>, which was more than could be said for the last few months. He laid in bed a bit longer with his eyes closed, cherishing the feeling of the sun lightly caressing his body, the warmth of the blankets cocooning him.</p>
<p>Then the memories of the previous day rushed back at him with the force of a 16-wheeler against a pine cone. His stomach dropped to his feet, his entire body erupting into a cold sweat as his eyes burst open.</p>
<p>(He was so, <em> so </em> <b> <em>stupid</em></b>.)</p>
<p>“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered to himself as he sat up, realizing that he was wearing clothes too big for him- they must’ve put him into Mark’s clothes at some point and- <em> Shit</em>, he really messed up. </p>
<p>“Is that a word a little boy should be saying?” asked Mark, sitting in the corner of the room with his iPad on his lap, looking at Ethan over his glasses. <em>Uh oh... </em>Ethan’s face heated up as he realized he wasn’t alone, pulling his knees to his chest. The stern look sent his way made his stomach feel all jumpy, his instincts telling him to apologize. “I don’t think that's a word that belongs in a little's mouth.”</p>
<p>“I’m not-”</p>
<p>“If the next word you’re going to say is<em> little</em>, you better rethink that sentence,” Mark cut in, making the words melt and sizzle on Ethan’s tongue. Mark had <em>no right</em> looking that intimidating. Ethan swallowed nervously. "Because you and I both know that you're a little, albeit one that's been denying headspace for a very long time."</p>
<p>Ethan frowned (<strike>pouted</strike>), looking up at Mark. "I wouldn't describe it as- as very long. I'm sure some people went for longer."</p>
<p>"Is that really the argument you wanna make right now?" Mark asked. "That some people went for <em>longer?</em> Do you- Ethan. People can <em>die</em> from repressing their headspace. You know that. I <em>know</em> you know that. You're a smart young man and I know you know how dangerous that was. I need you to explain <em>why</em> you did it."</p>
<p>Ethan wanted to melt to the floor at the strict, unyielding tone and the way Mark looked half a second away from sending him to the corner or worse. He'd never seen Mark look so serious and disappointed- especially not towards <em>him</em> unless it was a bit and this <em>definitely</em> didn't feel like a bit.</p>
<p>He shrugged, staring down at his knees like they were the most interesting things in the world.</p>
<p>Mark put the iPad down, folding his hands in front of him. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke in an even tone. "Come here, please."</p>
<p>"Mark-" Ethan whimpered, pushing himself away even further until his back was to the headboard. He would've backpedaled himself all the way to Mars if it were possible.</p>
<p>"Come <em>here</em>. I'm not <em>mad</em> at you, but we need to have a serious conversation, Ethan," Mark said, voice leaving no room for argument, his finger pointed at the edge of the bed that was closest to him. "I won't ask again."</p>
<p>Without much choice, Ethan obeyed, though not without giving Mark a pleading look, his eyes burning already. Mark gave him a nod once he situated himself in front of him.</p>
<p>"Thanks for listening, bud. I know you're uncertain and conflicted and you're probably struggling with your headspace right now, but we need to talk. What happened yesterday- that was bad. You went through a pretty rough drop yesterday because of how long you didn’t go into headspace. I don't know precisely how long you haven't been little, but either way, the fact you <em>dropped </em>involuntarily told me it was far, far too long. That was <em>incredibly</em> unhealthy, though I’m sure you knew that already, didn’t you?"</p>
<p>
  <strike>Stupid rhetorical questions.</strike>
</p>
<p>Ethan didn’t like the way this conversation was going and the big part of him-the adult one- wanted to talk back, to talk his way out of the conversation, or awkwardly laugh it all off. Anything to make the conversation end because he was feeling smaller by the minute and he was always more emotional when his patches wore off.</p>
<p>
  <strike> The little side of him wanted him to reach out his arms and ask for forgiveness because Mark was <em>scary</em>. </strike>
</p>
<p>He listened to neither of the impulses, instead directing his gaze to the bedside table, instantly recognizing the stack of patches with such brightly-colored packaging. Mark followed his gaze and sighed. “We found those in your bag while we were looking for the list of your allergens yesterday. Imagine our surprise when we saw how many you had on when we went to bathe you. Did you know you're only supposed to use them one at a time otherwise it could have long-term health ramifications?”</p>
<p>Ethan’s stomach shriveled at the words. They<em> knew</em> about that too, then. "I- um. I- I usually. I usually only use them one at a time? Yesterday was, that was the, the outlier."</p>
<p>"Good. You were running a fever for all of yesterday until early this morning. I can't imagine what it could have done to you if you regularly overused them. Say, for longer than a week." Mark's expression showed all Ethan needed to know that he wasn't very happy with Ethan's decision to use them at all. "How long have you been using them?"</p>
<p>Ethan didn't even <em>know</em> when he began using them regularly. He started them shortly after being classified but only for important days that he couldn't really be little. Since Unus Annus began, though... "A- A few months."</p>
<p>"And all that time you haven't been little?"</p>
<p>He hummed, nodding, not wanting to meet Mark's eyes. Mark sighed, running his hand over his face before he looked at Ethan again. Ethan fought the urge to squirm, feeling seen and vulnerable in all the wrong ways, like he was some schoolboy standing in the principal's office. It made him wanna throw up. "Ethan, buddy... You need to take care of yourself better than that. Or trust someone else to take care of you. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep going this way. I don't wanna see that happen."</p>
<p>"Sorry that you had to... deal with me like that yesterday. It won't happen again."</p>
<p>Mark's expression softened and his voice was gentler when he spoke. "We were so worried about you, Ethan. Taking care of you isn't the issue at all. We were glad to finally be able to give you the care you needed. The issue is that you're pushing yourself too hard and you're repressing headspace and I don't want you to get hurt or sick from it. Not when it could be prevented. If you'd just <em>told</em> me, we could have figured out solutions together."</p>
<p>“I know. Mark-” Ethan began, and he<em> hated </em>the way his voice shook, his eyes watering even though he'd barely even said anything yet. “I- I was going to tell you, I was. I just- I didn’t want- I was worried that- I mean...”</p>
<p>The barbed wire in his chest returned, coiling up around his lungs again like before.  Brown eyes stared back at him, analyzing him, and he wanted to shy away from the intensity of the gaze so badly. He didn’t, though, because he knew Mark<em> deserved </em>an explanation.</p>
<p>He kept speaking, each word like a bullet shot into a cave- aimless, fast, <em>uncontrollable</em>. “I wanted- I wanted to be your equal for the channel and- and when I told you I was a neutral, it was so long ago and I was just classified and I didn’t really think it <em>mattered</em> so I lied and I said I was a neutral-”</p>
<p><em> Tighter</em>.</p>
<p>“And I’m<em> sorry </em> I lied, okay? I am. I wish I didn’t, but it made for fun content and the fans liked it and- and I didn’t want you to soften your blows on camera or treat me differently or like I’m less than because- because I’m little, and I- I just-”</p>
<p>“Breathe, Ethan-”</p>
<p>
  <em> Tighter. </em>
</p>
<p>“I was<em> scared</em>. I was scared and I didn’t know if I even should share it <em>now</em> after so long or if it’d be weird if I told you suddenly and I- I wanted to, oh god I wanted to tell you, but <em> fuck</em>, Mark. I didn’t want you to <em> hate </em> me.”</p>
<p>
  <strike>Stop crying, stop <em>crying</em>, stop <strong><em>crying</em></strong>.</strike>
</p>
<p>“Ethan-”</p>
<p>
  <strike> <em> He couldn't breathe. </em> </strike>
</p>
<p>“I’m<b><em>sorry</em></b>,” Ethan said against the palms of his hands, his words so soft that they were almost nothing but air, air and barbed wire that fell from his lips without his approval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m bad. I’m sorry I’m like <em>this</em>.”</p>
<p>In the end, the little side of him won, and he reached his arms out as he cried out half-formed apologies between each gasping breath.<strike><br/></strike></p>
<p>Mark sighed, putting his glasses down on the mini-table next to him. He was silent as he picked Ethan up, holding Ethan close, chest to chest, wiping at the tears falling from Ethan's eyes with such a gentleness that it made him sob even harder.</p>
<p>“You’re not bad,” Mark finally said once Ethan's sobbing had turned into sniffles. “You made a choice that could have harmed you, so<em> that choice </em>was bad.  But you- <em> you’re </em>not bad. You’re good, Ethan.”</p>
<p>“I <em>lied</em> to you.”</p>
<p>“You did,” responded Mark, though not unkindly, wiping at Ethan's face with a wet cloth. “But I understand why you did it. I don’t agree with it, but I’m not angry over it. It’s not really that uncommon for people to lie about their classifications because they’re scared, ashamed, or what-have-you.”</p>
<p>"Do you hate me?" Ethan murmured against Mark's collarbone.</p>
<p>Mark let out a breath. "I could never hate you," he answered, and Ethan could hear the truth in his voice. The barbed wire loosened again. <em>Inhale. Exhale.</em> "I should have made the distinction very clear from the beginning- I was <em>never angry</em>. I'm not angry you didn't tell me or that you denied headspace. I was disappointed. Disappointed, worried, and sad to watch you suffer. That was all.</p>
<p>"I just wanna see you happy, bud. I wanna see you happy, healthy, and not abusing patches or repressing yourself. And, I just wanna say that I'm sorry too. I feel like I should've noticed it before you got to that point, so I'll be more alert now. I'm also sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't divulge that information with me. I told you already, I'm here when you need me. That's a promise."</p>
<p>Ethan hummed softly, leaning his head against Mark's chest. "Wasn't your fault. I was just stupid."</p>
<p>“It's not stupid to be scared. I think… I think that you can step forward from all of that now, though. I forgive you, if that's something you need to hear. I think you’ve punished yourself enough, and now it’s time to think of what happens next."</p>
<p>“I dunno what happens next,” Ethan muttered, not quite as big as earlier but still not fully in headspace. </p>
<p>Mark hummed, running his hand over Ethan’s back. “Well, small things at a time. Breakfast first, life-altering decisions later.” </p>
<p>Ethan huffed a laugh as Mark carried him into the kitchen, giving Amy a shy wave as Mark set him down on one of the chairs at the table. “Hey, bud. Good morning,” Amy said warmly, immediately easing Ethan’s concerns of any awkwardness. </p>
<p>“D’we film today?” Ethan asked, fidgeting with the hem of the plain gray shirt he had on. </p>
<p>“Umm, I don’t think-” Amy gave Mark a look, sharing a silent conversation between themselves. “I don’t think we need to. I think a break is good, at least for today. If you feel bigger after dinner, we can see, but for now, you should just relax.”</p>
<p>Ethan shifted, looking up at the two of them, feeling unbearably small as they looked at him. “But- you said yesterday that we- we’re s'posed to film today.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but we have enough videos in stock to be able to relax for one day.” Amy handed Ethan a plate of waffles but handed the fork to Mark. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Ethan protested, hesitating at the dual looks of questioning he received. “I can- I can feed myself. I’m not a <em> baby</em>.” </p>
<p>Mark huffed, running his hand through Ethan’s hair, messing it up even worse than before. Amy smiled fondly at that before she moved the conversation forward, asking, “I guess that’s actually something we should discuss- how old are you in headspace?”</p>
<p>Ethan tried to take the fork that Mark extended to him, but Mark yanked it away at the last second, grinning at Ethan teasingly. “Amy!” Ethan yelled after the third time, eliciting a laugh from Mark, though the older man handed the fork over at that and continued into the kitchen. “I’m, um, mmm depends on the day, I guess. I got, like 1-3 for my age range, I think.”</p>
<p>“That’s pretty young,” Mark mused.</p>
<p>“I guess,” Ethan said around a bite of his waffles. </p>
<p>Amy asked, “Well, do you have a caregiver? Someone who takes care of you when you’re small? Because you’re pretty young on the spectrum, so…”</p>
<p>Ethan shrugged, looking down at his waffles. “Ethan?” Amy prodded gently. </p>
<p>“I, uh, I don’t, actually. I mean, I’m a little and I’m a young little at that, and I’m a YouTuber so my lifestyle isn’t exactly- isn’t really what people are used to. It- It puts people off, sometimes. And I’m pretty energetic and, uh, I know I’m a handful so… Not really the ideal little.”</p>
<p>“Pish-posh,” Mark replied, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen as he waited for his coffee. “The idea of having an ‘ideal’ when you’re a caregiver is such a big pet peeve of mine. Your job is to take <em>care</em> of people, not to pick and choose people who 'deserve' your care. Every little one deserves care. Sure, you should find someone who you get along with and who will mesh well with your lifestyle and caretaking style, but the idea of refusing to care for others because they don’t meet your<em> ideal </em>is so stupid. It’s so limiting and pretentious.”</p>
<p>“What about care services? Daycares, nurseries, or even just in-home babysitters?”</p>
<p>Ethan nodded. “I used to, um, I mean, before- before Unus Annus, I used to, there was a babysitting service I used and they went to my place once or twice a week.”</p>
<p>“So why’d you stop?” Amy asked as Mark finally got his cup of coffee and sat down across from Ethan. </p>
<p>Ethan hesitated, but Amy’s encouraging look kept him going. “I thought that it was… risky to regress when I had to be here every day and- and I didn’t tell you guys that I was little so I didn’t want to… slip up, I guess. I didn't wanna make it awkward or weird or anything.”</p>
<p>Ethan pointedly ignored the look that Mark and Amy shared. “Well, now that we know and understand, are you going to start using the service again?”</p>
<p>“I… I dunno. Maybe.”</p>
<p>“We could also, if you want, help you, you know,” Mark said calmly as if he didn’t know the weight and impact of those words. “I mean, we’re both caregivers and neither of us has a little, so it’d be our pleasure. Amy and I discussed it last night and we’re both in agreement, so if you want, we could always, y'know. We could take care of you.”</p>
<p>Ethan mulled it over, but he knew the decision was, ultimately, a simple one.</p>
<p>“The fans may not be happy about it. That I hid it for years like I was ashamed of it. And if you two actually decide to be my...”</p>
<p>“Caretakers,” Amy supplied. Ethan gave her a grateful look.</p>
<p>“Right, if you guys decide to be my caretakers and we go public with that, it could- could cause some… problems.”</p>
<p>Mark shrugged. “The fans don’t get to decide. We make content because we enjoy it and we share that with them because we want to. They don’t hold any bearing on our decisions or our lives. So what’ll it be?”</p>
<p>Ethan leaned back and looked at the two of them. He felt<em> safe </em>with them, and he never had to soften out his edges with them, no matter how weird or wild he acted, they were always there. </p>
<p>(Was it stupid to trust them so easily? So <em>absolutely?</em>)</p>
<p>
  <strike> Maybe. But it was one stupid choice he didn’t feel bad about making. </strike>
</p>
<p>“Okay,” he said with a certain nod. He met their smiles with one of his own, feeling warm all the way down to his toes.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"You ready, Eth?" Amy asked. Ethan nodded shyly, wearing a Pikachu onesie, pressed up against Mark, holding a fluffy pillow-pet in his arms. She gave him an encouraging smile. "Aaaaand we're on."</p>
<p>Mark gave the camera a grin. "Hi. My name is Markiplier and I'm here with Ethan from the Crankgameplays channel. I'm sure you've all seen him before either on this channel or Unus Annus, but as you can see, this video is different from the usual videos we've done together before. We just needed to clear some things up and update the fans on some things. We'll resume regular posting soon, but-"</p>
<p>He gave Ethan a look for a moment, but Ethan just fidgeted with the pillow pet's velcro, not being in the mindset to add anything to the conversation. Mark wrapped his arm around Ethan's shoulder and Ethan melted against his side, smiling softly up at him like he was the one who carried the moon to the sky every day.</p>
<p>"For now, we just wanted to announce that yes, as you can see, Ethan is a little. Yes, I am- along with Amy, who's behind the camera- his caregiver. This is an arrangement we've had for a few months now. We discussed it in-depth while he was in a big headspace, and we decided to announce it, sorta tackle two birds with one stone and announce that one, he is a little; and two, that he's <em>our </em>little<em>. </em>I trust that the community will be respectful and kind about this change and won't turn it into an issue for any of us. Now, moving on from that...<em>"</em></p>
<p>The second half of the video was shot with Ethan in a bigger headspace, wearing Unus Annus merch as he looked at the camera. He gave the camera a nervous smile, waving.</p>
<p>"Hey, guys. So, I know you all just saw the clip before this one, and I just wanted to explain some things when I was in a bigger headspace and not as little. First, I wanted to apologize if anyone feels deceived that I hid my classification for so long. I never meant to lie to anyone, I was just- I was just scared, I guess. I built it up in my mind and... after a certain point, it felt like it would be... weird to come out and say it." He shifted, scratching the back of his neck.</p>
<p>"Umm. I wanted to say thank you, to the people who helped me feel comfortable enough to share this part of myself. It's been- man, it's been a journey, guys. Mark and Amy are my caretakers, and they're really nice, I never imagined that's something that would happen when I began Unus Annus with Mark, but I am so glad it did. I'm incredibly lucky that I found them and, and, I'm happy. I hope you guys can be happy for me too. Till next time, guys."</p>
<p>The video received a very positive response, with other YouTubers coming to send encouragement and kind messages, fans leaving heartfelt comments, and some news accounts commenting on it, congratulating them.</p>
<p>
  <strike>Ethan cried after reading all the wonderful things the fans said and saw the fanart of him on Mark's lap, but who could blame him for being emotional because his fans were so supportive?</strike>
</p>
<p>Surprisingly, nobody was angry with Ethan. They understood his reasoning and supported him, and it definitely made it easier to film videos knowing he didn't need to shove down a side of him constantly. He limited his use of patches, using them only for days when he had a meeting or something serious to take care of, but otherwise, he didn't really need them anymore.</p>
<p>
  <em>He was happy.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>He was loved.</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading. Lemme know what you think. This is my first time writing fic for them (and nsap in general) so I hope I did alright.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Domestic fluff</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I felt merciful after all the hurt so here's some mostly plotless bb fluff between Amy, Mark, and Eef!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Awww what do we do now?” Ethan asked dramatically after they wrapped up shooting for the day. “I’m boooored!”</p><p>Mark rolled his eyes fondly at the familiar tone, disassembling the tripod. “Hm, let’s see. We can play legos, go for a swim, play some soccer outside, watch a movie, or go to the nearby park. What are you in the mood for?”</p><p>“I’m bored,” Ethan repeated, laying face-down down on the floor of the living room. “I wanna do stuff.”</p><p>Mark gave Amy an exasperated look. “Did I not just list out things we could do?”</p><p>Amy grinned back at Mark before she turned to Ethan. “Why don’t you pick out a coloring book for each of us, hm? Mark and I will just finish here then we’ll all color a bit until we can figure out what to do next.”</p><p>Ethan seemed to think on it for a few more seconds before he pushed himself up to his feet. “Mkay!” he said dutifully, running up the stairs like a gremlin on all fours.</p><p>“Be careful!” Mark called after him, watching him to make sure he wasn’t going to take a tumble down the stairs. “He’s more energetic than he usually is at this hour.”</p><p>“Might be all the sugar you guys had before filming.”</p><p>Mark chuckled. “In all fairness to me, giving him the sugar did help us record the video without any incidents. So, you win some battles, and lose some battles.”</p><p>“As long as you stay up with him if he feels too hyper to go to bed later or he has a meltdown when his energy levels drop, I’ve got no complaints.”</p><p>“Well, now hold on a second-” Mark said theatrically with a hand on his hip, “I don’t think I signed up for that.”</p><p>Amy gave him a peck on the cheek, grinning at him. “Say that again?”</p><p>“Alright, maybe I <em>did</em> sign up for that. But that’s bribery, Ames.”</p><p>“That’s just how the world works.”</p><p>Amy and Mark finished cleaning up just as the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs let them know that Ethan had found his coloring books and crayons- a difficult task given how no matter how hard Amy tried to organize his playroom, Ethan would inevitably misplace everything by the time that night came around.</p><p>To “help clean”, of course, which was a sweet notion, but putting his stuffed animals into the laundry basket and his books in the closet didn’t make much sense to anyone except him.</p><p>Ethan plopped down on the floor in front of the coffee table, holding three coloring books in his hand. “I gots the stuff! Got the crayons an’ the books!!”</p><p>“Don’t dump out the-” Mark began, sighing when Ethan dumped out the box of crayons onto the coffee table before he managed to reach the end of his sentence. Ethan looked up at him once he processed Mark’s words, wide-eyed.</p><p>“Ah, let him be a little messy,” Amy said with a small pat on Mark’s shoulder. “We’ll pick it up later.”</p><p>Mark rolled his eyes teasingly. “You meant to say that I’ll pick it up later, right? Like the usual?”</p><p>“S-Sorry, Papa,” Ethan said sheepishly, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.</p><p>Mark gave him a fond pat on the head as he sat down on the floor, Indian-sitting next to Ethan as he looked over the coloring books, making sure to push the crayons to the center of the table to avoid them from dropping off the table and into the cracks between reality as they sometimes seemed to.</p><p>Coloring supplies were <em>expensive</em> nowadays and he didn’t fancy buying yet another box so soon after the last one. He had to replace the last one after Ethan decided to make a certain art piece that involved boiling them.</p><p>
  <strike> The weird part was how Ethan wasn’t even little when he did that. </strike>
</p><p>His grief when he realized he couldn’t color was… a headache to soothe and required an impromptu stop at Target.</p><p>After a couple of seconds, Ethan asked, “You’re not mad?”</p><p>“It’s fine, bud. We’ll pick them up, so no harm done,” Mark assured him as a response to Ethan’s worried expression. “Now! Coloring. Which ones have you got for us today?”</p><p>Ethan perked up at the question. “Ooh! I got one for amimals, one for the ‘vengers, and one for- for Disney!”</p><p>Amy hummed, looking at them. “Which one do you want, E?”</p><p>The boy looked between them for a moment, flipping them open and having a peek before he took the one for The Avengers. “I wan’- I wanna color ‘piderman.”</p><p>Mark nodded, taking the Disney one after Amy saw a page with a cute wolf and immediately picked up a sky blue crayon. “Alright, I guess I’ll color some Mulan’s and Goofy’s.”</p><p>They fell into a comfortable silence, each coloring their pieces, though Mark and Amy made sure to keep an eye on Ethan. He seemed calm and relaxed, his expression peaceful as he worked on his spiderman.</p><p>Thankfully, his energy seemed to have gone down somewhat, which would make the rest of the day an easier affair.</p><p>They worked quietly for about 30 minutes until Mark’s phone went off. He sighed, putting down his crayon and picking up the phone, walking to his recording room to answer whoever it might’ve been. Amy looked over at Ethan, who’d paused his coloring to stare at the door that Mark had gone through.</p><p>“You done coloring there, bud?” Amy asked, drawing back Ethan’s attention. Ethan nodded, pushing his hair away from his face.</p><p>Ethan presented his picture. “Is mulverse ‘piderman! He’s got Hawkeye colors an’ he shoots arrows from his wrist! He can- he can shoot people! But he gots webs too from the other hand.”</p><p>Amy smiled at Ethan’s excitement over the idea. “That’s really cool, E! Now he can really take down bad guys. You wanna carefully take it outta the book so we can hang it up on the fridge?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Ethan responded proudly, bouncing a little bit as he obeyed.</p><p>Amy watched him as he worked, his tongue out as he concentrated. They’d really come a long way and though it was a bit difficult in the beginning to get him to willingly slide into headspace, she was glad they managed to accustom him to being little without being constantly nervous and insecure about his actions.</p><p>He was such a cuddly little one, too, though rather sensitive.</p><p>It took some trial and error in the beginning, particularly because Mark and her expected him to be more bratty or loudmouthed like the character he played on camera.</p><p>Even if not to the extent he pushed it on camera, there was just an assumption he would be at least <em>something</em> like his character.</p><p>The first time that Mark raised his voice as a response to Ethan picking up the tactical shovel while little, they found out how untrue that notion was.</p><p>[Ethan stared back at him, stepping back with big wet eyes before the shock faded and he burst into tears, plopping down on the grass. Mark immediately froze on the spot, his muscles stiffening as he looked at Ethan for a moment before his brain processed what had happened and he reached out to the weeping boy.</p><p>
  <strike> The pain in Mark’s eyes when Ethan backed away was something that ached like a <strong><em>bruise</em></strong>. Mark's hand dropped to his side, surprise coloring his features, looking woefully lost in his own house. </strike>
</p><p>"Ethan? It's me, lovebug. Papa's not mad. Papa was just surprised. He didn't want you to get hurt is all. Come here, E."<strike><br/></strike></p><p>“Papa doesn’t love me no more!”</p><p>
  <strike> “Of course he does. He always does. He always will, silly boy.”] </strike>
</p><p>“Here you go, Mama,” Ethan said, handing her his drawing. She blinked, pulled from her thoughts abruptly. “I did it real careful so it didn’t rip.”</p><p>“Good job,” she said to him and he preened under the words. “I’ll go put this on the fridge, okay? You stay right here and I’ll be right back. Think on what you wanna do next.”</p><p>She stuck the picture to the fridge next to the finger-painting of the three of them that Ethan made a while ago. The proportions were all off, but it was so adorable she had no other choice but to put it at the center of the fridge.</p><p>When she entered the living room, Mark was back in the room, sitting on the sofa with Ethan on his lap. She quickly pulled out her phone, snapping a few photos that would make for a fun Instagram story. “You two look adorable,” said she, to which Mark just grinned softly at the bundle in his arms.</p><p>Mark patted Ethan’s back. “Looks like we’re in a quieter mood, so we’re having some sweet ol’ cuddle time before he'll probably go down for a nap.”</p><p>Amy sat down beside them. “Soft music or a movie?”</p><p>“Tangled,” Ethan responded softly, his fingers in his mouth.</p><p>“That’s yucky, lil guy. Let’s get you your paci, okay?” Mark said, picking him up with ease and carrying him to the drawer containing the pacifiers and other comfort items. He lifted the pacifier to Ethan’s lips, running a hand through his hair when he took it. “Good boy. Such a sweet-looking baby, aren’t you? Yeah, you got big pleading eyes that could make anyone handpick each star out of the sky for you.”</p><p>
  <strike> They all knew that Mark and Amy would do just that if it meant making him smile. </strike>
</p><p>Ethan only nestled closer to him, smiling against his neck. <strike>God, he was precious and he didn’t even <em>know</em> it.</strike></p><p>Amy played the movie as they sat down, putting her head on Mark’s shoulder. None of them made it halfway to the movie before they were fast asleep, a bundle of limbs on the sofa.</p><p>They built themselves a family out of warm words and early-morning touches. They built themselves a home with pillars of love and joy, with tender smiles and the sweet sound of laughter crafted into every wall. They clenched their teeth around their hope and dared to dream of a happy ending.</p><p>
  <em> <strike> Was it worth it? </strike> </em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <strike>It would always be worth it. In every lifetime, in every universe. There's no world it wouldn't be worth it.</strike> </strong>
</p>
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